Wrecked Book 2 Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Author’s Note

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Wrecked

  Book 2

  By Rachel Hanna

  Author’s Note

  This is book 1 in the Wrecked series. There will be 5 books in this series, so if you don’t want to miss the release of book 2 in a couple of weeks, CLICK HERE to be added to the notification list!

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  Also, connect with me on Facebook by clicking HERE!

  Chapter 1

  Miranda is coming.

  I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection as those words ran through my head over and over again. Somehow, I thought I’d gotten away from this moment. I had said my goodbyes years ago, prepared then and there at the funeral to deal with the wrath of Miranda—but it never came.

  Miranda had a breakdown and never went. Instead, she was shipped off to relative's house in Maine. By the time she came back, I was already long gone.

  Although I knew I deserved what was coming to me, I couldn’t deny the utter relief I experienced when I knew that she was sent away. It was like a stay of execution.

  But I should have known better than to think it would last forever.

  I had washed my hair the night before—I’d taken a long shower that night, actually—and let it dry as I slept so that I could straighten it before class this morning. Now it hung in long unruly curls that cascaded down way past my shoulders, the dark coloring more dynamic as different pieces caught the light.

  Your hair’s so wild, Ri.

  I shook my head and reached for my straightening iron. It took a long time to straighten, but it was worth it. There was a new image I had to maintain, and that meant a classy look to send that concept home.

  By the time I was done, I looked like a presentable, everyday girl who was all about the books. But I didn’t feel like that girl. Instead, I felt like the girl who had ruined everything, done irreparable damage in the past and now was playing make believe to cover it up.

  Turning away from the mirror, I went to my dresser and pulled out a pair of light blue skinny jeans and a white button down shirt with a vest. It was demure and completely boring. Sighing, I slipped on my sneakers, the only remnants of my high school days and headed downstairs, grabbing my backpack along the way.

  The thing about having stuff going on was that school didn’t really care. It didn’t pause or give you a break. It just kept chugging along and if you were dumb enough to ask for a reprieve, it would just roll you right over.

  I didn’t bother checking to see if Kass wanted to walk together today. She had texted me yesterday that she was having a ‘James Day’ and that she wouldn’t be home until late. Which meant that, assuming she was home, she wouldn’t be interested in going to morning classes. So I went alone.

  The morning was chilly and damp from the storm yesterday.

  My mind flashed back and I shook my head at how ridiculous I had been. Running around in the rain like my life was on the line. And why? To prove that Logan was really a bad guy after all. Except, I didn’t prove that at all. The people I spoke with, well, they had conflicting stories at best and in the end I was left with a bunch of pieces that didn’t fit together perfectly and the sinking suspicion that I had misjudged Logan.

  And then we kissed.

  He’d admitted to wanting to sleep with me and then we made out like wild animals and then it had turned into a huge fight. I’m not even sure how it happened. I just remember being angry with him, angry that he wouldn’t… that he wouldn’t touch me.

  “But he’ll touch Lexie,” I muttered to myself, crossing my arms over my chest.

  But that wasn’t even the point. In the end, the point was that taunting Logan had pushed him a little far. Maybe too far. His fist slamming right beside my face had startled me and now I wasn’t sure if I wanted to delve any deeper into this idea of Logan.

  My instincts had told me right off the bat to stay away from him. I’d ignored him and things were getting a little crazy because of it. I was getting a little crazy.

  So I was going to have to call it: leave this one alone. My initial instincts were right, whether he got suspended for noble reasons or otherwise, he was volatile at best and dangerous at worst. That was the last thing I needed in my life.

  Especially with Miranda coming.

  I had to be on my best behavior to convince her that things were different now, that I was different. I didn’t have to be that girl anymore and I wouldn’t be.

  So that was it. That was how I was going to make this all work. Look and act the part, be the reformed girl I know I could be, to prove to Miranda that I wouldn’t be wrecking any more lives. And stay the hell away from Logan, no matter how much I wanted to know what the rest of his story was.

  It wasn’t worth it.

  I walked the rest of the way to class feeling more confident.

  I had everything worked out so perfectly, nothing could screw this up. All I had to do was practice a little self-restraint and avoidance. I’d been doing that since freshman year. Earlier, even, because I’d decided to turn my life around by the end of sophomore year of high school.

  I was a model student now. I just had to maintain that.

  Filled with determination, I walked into the school building, making a beeline for my classroom. But when I rounded the corner and it came into view, I froze.

  Standing outside the door to my classroom as people moved past him, sending curious glances his way, was none other than Logan.

  “Shit.”

  I thought about turning around right then and there and not going to my class that day, but then remembered my determination to be a model student from here on out. I wasn’t going to do a very good job of that if I started skipping classes just because of something… inconvenient.

  And that’s all he was, I told myself desperately. Just an inconvenience. Nothing more. I could handle a simple inconvenience.

  So with a deep breath, I walked forward with straight shoulders and my chin up, determined to just ignore him as I headed to my class.

  Probably it was only a coincidence he was there at all. It wasn’t even about me—

  “Addy,” he said, as I tried to follow the other students who were just sliding past him into the classroom.

  I was prepared to ignore him, despite the fact that when he called my name my heart skipped a beat, but I didn’t get the chance. He wasn’t going to let me just walk away from him. His hand reached out to slap flat palmed on the opposite door frame than the one he was standing by. The result was his arm creating a bar between me and the classroom.

  I stopped right before I ran into him, but didn’t say anything or turn to face him. I just waited. If I ignored him long enough, maybe he would just let me go…

  It didn’t look like I was going to be so lucky, though.

  “Addy, we need to talk,” Logan said. His voice was still deep, but there was the barest hint of a pleading note there. “About what happened yesterday.”

  I resisted the urge to fidget, or look at him. Instead, I did my very best to remain absolutely still. I didn’t want to talk to him or deal with him and I certainly didn’t want to think about what happened yesterday…

  After a moment, he responded to my kiss, pushing me against the wall. He was hard and insistent, his tongue sliding into my mouth as I pulled him closer to me—

  I bit my lip. I wasn’t going to say anything. Not a damn thing. I’d decided he was tr
ouble, and I’m sticking to that. I didn’t need this kind of drama and—

  “What’s there to talk about?” I asked, wondering how it was that my mouth could just say things when I’d decided not to.

  “A lot, I think,” he answered. “Like about that kiss and what you want.”

  “What I want?” I asked, surprised. It threw me off enough that I broke my second decree—that I wasn’t going to look at him—and turned to face him. I caught his storm cloud eyes staring at me intently and for a moment I found myself lost in them again.

  How did that always happen?

  “Yeah,” I said, his voice low and a little calmer now that I was looking at him and responding to his words. “You said yesterday that I had no idea what you want, and when you kissed me—”

  I winced. He was right. I had initiated the kiss, though it had been more about proving a point. The point that he didn’t know me or the things I wanted or anything else.

  Of course, that didn’t mean that I didn’t want the kiss or that I wasn’t lost in it or that I wouldn’t have let it go farther if the circumstances had been different.

  “When you kissed me, I realized that you’re right,” he finished after a long pause. He ran a hand through his long hair. It was half pulled back, the part that was down brushing along his broad shoulders. “I don’t know very much about you, but I know enough that I want to know more.”

  I shook my head. This wasn’t how I had planned for things to go. I was supposed to avoid him and he was supposed to decide that I wasn’t worth the trouble and we were both supposed to move on like nothing had ever happened.

  “Look,” I began, looking back towards the classroom. I could see in through the small door window that most of the seats were filled and that the professor was writing something on the board. I had a few minutes before class started. Was I really going to be late for this? “What happened yesterday… I just had a lot going on. You shouldn’t look too much into it. I’m sorry I freaked out on you, but that’s all it was. It’s done, I’ve moved on, you will, too. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to class.”

  I waited for his arm to drop so that I could go inside, but it didn’t. I saw the well-defined muscles in his arm tighten and strain with an effort that told me he had no intention of moving.

  “Give me a chance,” he said, and though I wasn’t looking at him now, I could hear the seriousness in his voice and imagined that same serious expression from outside my apartment.

  I shook my head and sighed. “For what?” I muttered, starting to feel exasperated.

  “To prove that I’m the kind of guy for you,” he answered me, just as serious.

  I didn’t say anything. Why was this so important to him? I was just some girl… was this about being a challenge? About being the girl who said no, when every other girl was begging for a yes? Was this because of the kiss?

  Had I somehow won a guy over with one little kiss?

  My fingers hooked into his belt loops and pulled him even closer to me, his hips slamming hard against mine and I could tell he wanted this.

  Okay, maybe it wasn’t just some little kiss. It had been awfully physical and demanding for a kiss, all kinds of hot and heavy, but… but then why hadn’t his hands gone to my body like mine had gone to his?

  I shook my head. “I’ve got class—”

  “Fine,” he said, his voice a little harsh. He didn’t move his arm right away though. He added, “Go to class. But tonight, meet me outside Old Main. Seven o’clock.”

  When his arm dropped right after that, I moved quickly past him, opening the door and stepping into class just before it officially started. As the door closed behind me, I heard him call, “Give me a chance, Addy.”

  But I’ve already made up my mind. I can’t.

  Chapter 2

  I spent the next three hours thinking of Logan. His words rattled around in my brain, taunting me. Give me a chance, Addy. But what was I giving him a chance for? A repeat performance of that disaster in the hallway? Or maybe something more than that. Maybe he was hoping to get lucky.

  Although I tried to ignore the feeling, my heart plummeted at the thought. I had decided he was bad news, that I was going to stay as far away from him as possible—I had to with Miranda coming—but somehow, he’d managed to wriggle his way into my mind and heart.

  And I wanted to believe that him wanting to meet with me tonight was not about getting laid.

  Shaking my head, I decided that this was not what I needed to be thinking about. I gathered up my things and shoved them into my book bag as class ended. It was lunch time and the thought of facing my friends makes me feel a little nauseous. I haven’t spoken to Mason since yesterday and I’m sure my random outburst at him, not to mention dragging him out of class after making a scene, was going to leave him with a lot of questions he wanted to ask.

  Questions that would ultimately come back to Logan, and I was not going to talk about him with anyone and certainly not Mason.

  Luckily, when Kass texted me and asked if I wanted to save her a seat, I had a perfectly legitimate excuse for why I was telling her no. I had to meet with Professor Keith about my Ethics essay due next week. Although I would have class with him later that night and could just as easily ask him then, I had set up a meeting with him specially so that I didn’t waste anyone’s time.

  I was relieved now that I had been so proactive. It was getting me out of the potentially awkward position I would be in at the lunch table today.

  Professor Keith’s office was in the Business building on the third floor. I’d been there a handful of times already, sometimes for things required by him for the class—at the beginning of the term everyone had to meet with him to discuss what they thought this class really was about—and sometimes just because I was being hands on and invested.

  It was hard not to be in his class. He was a younger professor, maybe in his late thirties, and still understood things relevant to his students. He also happened to be incredibly smart, and unlike most of his colleagues, wasn’t a complete bore.

  And if that wasn’t enough to convince someone that he was the professor to have, he was also very attractive. He had sandy brown hair and warm brown eyes and a body that no professor should have been allowed to have. The female half of the class all sat up front, but I’m not sure how much they actually learned. They were too busy staring at him with hearts in their eyes.

  Although I could see why, I didn’t think of him as attractive enough to get a low grade over. Although plenty of girls had tried to flirt with him and get his attention, he seemed pretty far and unfazed by their advances.

  It made me respect him and also meant that when I went to his office, like now, I didn’t feel as though I was walking into a potentially dangerous situation. I didn’t need something like a teacher-student relationship on my permanent record. It didn’t do a lot for the classy image I was working so hard for.

  Professor Keith was in his office waiting for me when I knocked. He told me to come in, so I did. He was seated behind his desk, wearing a button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a patterned tie that his wife likely picked out for him.

  “Miss Trent, there you are,” he said brightly with a smile that showed dimples and small wrinkles that said he smiled a lot. “Please, have a seat.”

  I did so gracefully, sitting on the chair opposite his desk. “Thanks for meeting with me, Professor Keith.”

  He waved off my thanks modestly. “Of course. I’m happy that I actually have a student who’s showing some interest. I can’t help but think half of my students don’t even know what’s going on.”

  I laughed. Oh, if only he knew how true that was. Or how many of the students were taking the class only because they thought he was a hot teacher.

  Pulling out some papers, he shuffled them and looked them over. I had the sneaking suspicion that they were previous papers that I’d turned into him, or at least the topics. “Now, Miss Trent,” he began, skimming
over the papers until he found the one he wanted. “Have you given much thought to your topic yet?”

  I nodded. “I was thinking of taking some of the fortune five hundred companies and looking at their business models, then comparing to see which ones are similar. From there, go through old lawsuits against them in order to see if similar models end up with similar lawsuits, because ultimately their breaking the same rules. Furthermore, I wanted to focus on if those lawsuits are really ethical points, or just cheap tricks to get money out of the companies.”

  Professor Keith nodded his head, as I spoke, taking down a few notes. “I see. Very interesting, Miss Trent. I think that sounds like an excellent idea, but I’m concerned it’s a little too broad. That’s a lot of research for a mid-level paper, and I’m concerned that you’re going to burn yourself out before you get to the end of the semester.”

  My enthusiasm dropped marginally. Although this was why I had come to his office—for advice—I had really been hoping that he would just tell me that the topic was brilliant and give me the green light to start on it.

  The fact that he was thinking it was too much work for me wasn’t very encouraging.

  Before I dropped into total despair, however, he added, “I think you should hold off on this one until the end of the semester. We’ll be having a final paper instead of a test, as you know, and I think something of this caliber is more deserving as a final essay.”

  I perked up at that. So he meant that this essay was too good for right now. “So I should put this on a shelf and come up with something else this time around?”

  He nodded his head, smiling at me. “Exactly. Go ahead and keep this one in mind, but given how much research you’re going to have to muddle through, I think you’ll need the rest of this semester to really nail this essay. So if you intend to keep this topic, save it for the end of the class. That way, you can research as we progress and hopefully I can offer up some sources for you to delve into along the way.”